Second Chances
by Miss Wonderfreak
Summary: Post-manga, Roy and Hawkeye are forced to flee to Xing for their safety. Living the life they once could have had, they discover that maybe love isn't perfect, and maybe it doesn't need to be.
1. Prologue

a.n.: New story! post-manga

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist in any way, hooray for witty disclaimers.

An Odyssey of Sorts

_Prologue_

The sink dripped steadily in the corner, its beat just a little off the clock hanging above it. The two together formed a sort of unsteady rhythm that, paired with the flickering light bulb overheard, gave Mustang an unpleasant sort of tension at the bottom of his stomach. He fiddled with his cuticles, then looked over at Hawkeye across the table. She sat slightly slumped with her hands folded neatly in front of her, and she stared at him intently. Her damp hair was tucked behind her ears, and he thought perhaps she had recently showered. Her tongue darted quickly out to moisten her lips, and Roy watched mesmerized.

"Sir?" She asked, her tone formal but comfortable. "Why are you here?"

Roy wordlessly slid a piece of paper across the bare wooden table to her. Her eyes tightened as she read it aloud.

"'_You dog, you will pay for what your people did to this country'. _This is the third one this week! I'm ordering extra units to your neighborhood, and we should probably get the bomb squad to do another sweep-"

"They also sent this." Mustang dumped the contents of a paper bag onto the table, and Hawkeye wrinkled her nose at the mutilated puppy. "There was a note attached. '_You're next'."_

"Sir, they are terrorists. They terrorize, it's their job. We should send the dog over to the lab, there might be particulates embedded-"

"Hawkeye, this is the third one this week, but the eight one this month, and the twenty-first this year."

"Yes sir, I know, but all units are doing their best, and you've still got to testify so your safety is of utmost importance to the military-" She sounded apologetic, and he silenced her with a wave of his hand.

"Very important, apparently. I've received orders from higher up, from the Fuhrer herself..." He trailed off, fingering the manila envelope in his coat pocket.

"What orders, sir?" Hawkeye narrowed her eyes at him, sounding suspicious. Mustang opened his mouth and then shut it.

"Sir?" Hawkeye sounded slightly worried, and she leaned toward him. "Sir, what orders?"

"For my own protection, I am to... 'relocate to the Xingese base immediately'. I can't disobey a direct order and risk a court martial, not when political stability is what it is..." For a few seconds all that could be heard was the faucet and the clock's odd duet. Roy looked at Hawkeye nervously, and jumped when she leaned back into her chair.

"So." She said calmly, though her voice was slightly higher than usual. "That's how it is, then."

"Apparently." He muttered, unable to meet her eyes any longer.

"When do you leave?" She asked in that same falsetto tone.

"Tonight." He paused, and she nodded in quiet resignation. "I came to say..."

Hawkeye's jaw tensed.

"Might I have a glass of water?" Roy asked her in lieu of the dreaded words. She stood up silently and got a chipped white mug from her cupboard, filling it with tap water. He tentatively took a sip, then quickly spat it back into the cup. It tasted of rust and lead, and a bit like loneliness.

"I've got Bloch and Jonson as guards." He informed her.

"They're good men." Hawkeye replied, still facing the sink.

"I suppose." He said nonchalantly. "Not as good as some."

He saw her hands tighten on the edge of the counter.

"The Fuhrer wouldn't refuse me a personal favor..." He pleaded desperately. She didn't move, and he glared at her back, breaking inside.

"You lied, you do have vases." He said spitefully, nodding at the dusty vase on the top of the fridge.

"I'm allergic to flowers." She murmured, still not facing him. Roy knew she was lying again, but he didn't push it. Outside, a car horn sounded twice.

"I've got to go." He said, rising slowly to his feet. "I guess... just... I mean... you..."

"Goodbye." She muttered, her voice thick with tears. He took a step back in shock.

"Goodbye, then." He replied coldly, smiling in satisfaction as he heard her choke back a sob. He half-turned to leave.

"_You bastard,_" She suddenly hissed, whipping around to face him. "Twenty-one years, and this is what it comes to?"

"Hawkeye-"

"Yes, General Roy Mustang, great Flame Alchemist? Do you have anything else to say? Any injury to add to insult?"

"Hawkeye-"

"_Get out of my house._" She shrieked, pushing him towards the door. "Get the hell out!"

"_Riza_. Stop it." He grabbed her wrists.

"What the hell do you want from me?" She spat.

"I want... I want you to come with me, Hawkeye."

"You _want_ me to go with you?" She mocked.

"Hawkeye, you're coming with me, and that is an order. You've got five minutes to pack." Roy told her, pulling her in close and wrapping his arms around her. She grabbed him tightly, sniffling into his chest.

"Dammit, don't scare me like that." Hawkeye snapped weakly. He buried his nose in her hair, memorizing her scent of lavender and soap.

"You should go pack. I don't know when or if we'll be coming back" He pushed her away gently. She laughed, and heading into her bedroom, called over her shoulder to him:

"Good."


	2. Chapter 1

a.n.: By the way, just in case the first didn't chapter didn't make it clear, about five years have passed since the manga. I'd put the ages at... Roy 36, Hawkeye 34, Ed 21, Winry 21, Ran Fan 21, Al 20, Ling 20, Mei 19, just to give you all an idea of people's maturity level and mental state.

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA. If I did, I would make it public property, so fanfic writers wouldn't have to write these stupid things.

An Odyssey of Sorts

_Chapter 1  
_

Escaping from his homeland in the middle of the night made Mustang feel slightly foolish, he found. Sneaking around in the early hours of the morning lead by a guard just as lost as they were, Roy was rather relieved when their guide found them.

"Sir." The masked woman gave a quick bow, but as her wrapping fluttered in the wind, Roy saw a telltale glint from her right arm.

"Ran Fan." He chuckled, shaking his head. "Is it normal in Xing for the Empress to act as a coyote?"

Though her face was hidden in shadow, Roy sensed Hawkeye's disapproval at his light-hearted tone. Right, they were supposed to be escaping from everything and everyone they had ever known. He probably ought to be slightly more disheartened, but he was still giddy with happiness. _She was coming with him..._

"Fuhrer Armstrong demanded the best and most capable escort possible." Ran Fan snapped, folding her arms. "The Emperor has deemed me the most worthy."

Roy nodded once, but Hawkeye stepped forwards to face the woman.

"How do we know we can trust you?" She demanded, her hands on her hips. Roy cringed at her lack of faith, but Ran Fan seemed to expect the question. She shrugged. In one fluid motion, she pulled a shuriken from her sleeve and stabbed the soldier standing behind her in the neck. He let out a strangled cry and fell to the ground, where Ran Fan ground her heel into his jugular until she heard it snap.

"Bloch!" Roy started forwards and reached for his gloves as he heard Hawkeye click the safety off her pistol. Ran Fan held up a hand, then leaned down and rolled the corpse over. She opened the dead man's mouth and pried loose a molar with her dagger, then held it out for Mustang to see. It glistened oddly in the faint light.

"Listening device." She explained, tossing it to the ground and crushing it.

"I- Oh." Roy stammered, letting his arms fall to his sides. He suddenly felt a lot less cheerful.

"In answer to your question, Lieutenant General Hawkeye, you can't trust anyone. Let's get moving, we need to be out of sight of the city before sun rises."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Hawkeye had done her very best not to forget anything about Ishbal; she felt it was her duty to remember what history books would not. However, as the sun rose above them on the second day, she realized that she _had_ forgotten something. She had forgotten how abominably hot deserts were. Her head spun and her vision was fuzzy, and the damp cloak she had wrapped around her to protect her from the wind was doing absolutely nothing to halt the sun's scorching rays. The lurching camel beneath her was really not helping, and she thought she might have thrown up if she had had anything in her stomach. It was only nine in the morning, it wasn't supposed to be this hot!

"Hawkeye, you should drink. You need to stay hydrated." Mustang called to her, his own voice raspy with thirst. Hawkeye hefted her canteen dubiously and shook her head. They had almost another three weeks to go, and they'd already drunk almost a quarter of their water supply.

"I'm fine." She insisted quietly, trying to ignore the throbbing between her temples. Roy looked as though he wanted to say something, but seemed to think better of it.

A sudden gust blew sand into Hawkeye's eyes and she rubbed at them uselessly. She hoped her landlady read the note on her door and called the attached number, because unless Fuery took him in, poor Hayate was on his own. She was never going to see him again... She bit her lip, telling herself that she was only tearing up because of the blasted sand.

She closed her eyes wearily, but even the darkness was not cool, for the sun shone through her eyelids and stained the black into an angry red, the color of blood. She hated that color... Hawkeye opened her eyes swiftly and focused instead on the reigns she was weakly gripping. This camel despised her, he'd spat in her face as she was getting on, and she doubted that the reigns would have any effect on him whatsoever. Stupid camel. Stupid camel, stupid sun, stupid heat, stupid goddamned wasteland.

They rode on in silence, for talking wasted precious energy, and Hawkeye's mind began to wander to the last time she'd been in a desert such as this. The air had smelled differently then, a scent of smoke, iron, sulfur, and death that she'd soon come to associate with war. It hadn't been so eerily silent, either. There had been constant screaming that echoed twenty-four hours a day, though Hawkeye wasn't sure if the screaming had been the Ishbalans or her own. There had been one little girl- but no, mustn't go there, mustn't think of those things. The soft _shup_ of the camel's feet against the sand sounded a bit like a marching drum. God, how she hated the desert...

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It took Roy exactly fifteen minutes and forty-three seconds to decide that he hated the desert, and he was still hating it two days later. Partially it was the heat, partially it was the fact that he really disliked camels, but mostly it was the memories it stirred up. The sun had been redder there, and... well, it was probably best not to think too much about it. He tried to distract himself by glancing over at Hawkeye, who was looking a little wobbly perched atop her camel.

"Hawkeye, you should drink. You need to stay hydrated." He told her.

"I'm fine." She gave the small shake of her head, and he frowned. She was always so focused on taking care of him that she often forgot to take care of herself, and it wasn't going to help anyone if she fainted from dehydration out here. He tried his best not to worry. She could take care of herself, loyal idiot that she was.

He looked ahead at the horizon in front of him. It was endlessly flat, just dune after dune fading into a red haze in the distance, and Roy suppressed a shudder. Yet another reason he hated the desert- it was just so eternal. Nothing would ever flourish here, nobody would grow up here, no cities could be built, and nothing would ever live out in these dead lands. It was unnatural for them to be out here, it felt like they were breaking some sort of primitive order. Life did not thrive in the midst of death, it was simply perverse. He grimaced. Maybe thinking of Ishbal _was_ better.

Ran Fan halted them abruptly, and he looked over at her, startled.

"We'll make camp here." She said, her tone indicating she was used to being obeyed. Apparently in Xing, nobody argued with an Empress.

"But it's the middle of the day!" Roy insisted, bewildered. Ran Fan gave him a withering look.

"We sleep in the middle of the day, when it's hottest. Not to mention that we need to be up at night since we use the stars to navigate."

Right on cue, Roy's camel knelt for him to dismount. He stepped off the animal and was reward as it spat in his hair. Yeah, he really didn't like camels. In the time it took for him to unload his sleeping mat from his very uncooperative ride, Ran Fan swiftly set up three lightweight tents. Tapping him on the shoulder, she handed him a piece of jerky.

"Dinner." She told him with a rare small smile. He smiled back in return, then winced as his chapped lips began to bleed. Adding insult to injury, the wind picked up violently and slapped him in the face with his own cloak. Roy's mood turned even more sour, and, roughly grabbing the jerky from Ran Fan, he stomped off to his tent with a scowl.

Inside the tent it was stuffy and horribly warm, but at least the thin cloth walls offered meager shade and deflected the sun's scorching heat. Roy dropped his mat unceremoniously in the center of the tiny room, then collapsed onto it with a groan. He wasn't used to riding for such a long period of time and his entire lower body ached, not to mention the stinging sunburn on his nose. He buried his face in his arm and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the heat, physical pain, and thirst. Ugh, he really hated the desert.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The thing that got to him the most, Mustang thought with a sigh, was the monotony. Every day they awoke at sundown, and every noon they stopped to make camp, and every meal was the same salty jerky, and every dune was the same as the last goddamned dune that they had just ridden over. The same stupid sand was everywhere, and every same stupid brown dead shrub was the same as every other stupid brown dead shrub, and the same eerie silence always lingered on in the back of their minds. They were two weeks into the journey, and Roy was ready to scream.

He sensed Hawkeye looking at him, and he turned to grin at her, though he wasn't sure if she could see in the moonlight. The air smelled strange at night here, like lotuses and like rock, and like something he couldn't quite name. He'd smelled it before, at cemeteries and sometimes when looking up a the night sky. Age, that was it. At night, the desert smelled primevally fierce and eternal, almost carnal. The pure darkness around them did nothing to help. Not a single fire in sight, no sign of civilization anywhere. Sometimes Roy wondered if perhaps they were the last people alive in the world, and if maybe they would simply wander the desert for the rest of forever. Here, horizon and sky blurred together in the black, creating a feeling of weightlessness and cosmic unimportance.

Above him, the moon shone like a beacon, painting the red sand below his feet a deep maroon, and the stars seemed colder than ever. The gentle breeze was chill, and Roy shivered, wrapping his cloak tighter around him. He'd never look at a simple cotton cloak the same way after this, his cloak was responsible for his survival- it protected him from the burning sun during the day and prevented hypothermia during the night. It might have been just a cheap cotton cloak, but it was also a lifeline.

The only sound besides the camels' footsteps was the howling of the wind in the distance. He had never heard anything so silent as the desert. It was so quiet, he could hear his own heartbeat, as though his body was trying to remind him that he existed, that he mattered in this vast darkness. He tried to take comfort from it. He was alive, his body was warm, his heart was pumping blood despite the undeniable fact that they did not belong in this wasteland. Nature _could_ be defied, and he would do whatever necessary to assure that Hawkeye, himself, and Ran Fan got out alive.

He coughed as the wind whipped sand into his mouth. That was another thing he didn't like about the desert, sand got everywhere. It got in his mouth and in his eyes and his nose and wore its way through his clothes until his whole body itched. Sometimes he had nightmares where he was slowly buried in it, unable to move or breathe, only able to watch the sand slowly suffocate him. As if being constantly surrounded by the choking heat and barren landscape weren't enough, the desert had to worm its way into every aspect of their lives. Grains of rock ground against their teeth as they ate, choked them as they breathed, and tormented them in their sleep. Humans were not adequately prepared to deal with the desert's infinity, physically or emotionally.

"The sun's rising." Hawkeye's quiet voice interrupted his morbidity. He looked up, and sure enough there was a familiar inspiring glow on the horizon ahead.

"So it is." He replied out of the necessity to talk, to inform her that he was alive and relatively well. Gentle rays of light began to stain the sky the faintest shade of pink, a stark contrast to the glowing auburn sand. All three camels stopped unbidden atop of a dune, and Ran Fan let them rest for a moment as their passengers contemplated the scenery. Tendrils of crimson were now spreading across the sky, heralds of the coming sun. The horizon responded as the edge of where the land met the sky began to glow faintly yellow as the smallest of slivers of sun became visible, a needle-thin strip of molten gold. Roy let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and beside him he heard Hawkeye gasp quietly. The pink had been burned from the sky now and it was replaced by flaming orange that seemed to be burning the heavens. As more of the sun crept up over the horizon, Roy was forced to look away as the gilded light seared his eyes. Their long shadows were burnt sienna against the red ground, and the entire sky was now a brilliant pinkish orange. The sun was almost complete now, and he could feel its mild warmth on his face. They didn't have long before it rose to hung in the sky, a raging ball of heat that tormented them throughout the day, but for now it hovered quietly on the horizon. He looked over at Hawkeye. She was gazing at the sunrise, her lips just the slightest bit parted in awe, and he saw the golden sun reflected a thousand times more radiant in her eyes.

"We should go." Ran Fan told them quietly, shaking the reins of her camel. It trotted forward obediently, and Roy and Hawkeye followed suit. The sun climbed overhead as he knew it would, and they faced another scorching day in the middle of hell. But this time, as Roy's mind wandered, his thoughts kept drifting back to Hawkeye's glowing golden eyes.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

While Hawkeye was getting along no better with her camel, she had grown accustomed to the desert. It's vast emptiness didn't bother her as much as it used to, and she was now able to appreciate the speckled night sky that melted so seamlessly into the horizon. Her inner thighs might have been raw from the camel's lurching, but at least she wasn't solely focused on gory Ishbal flashbacks. She gave a silent yawn. It was about five in the morning, and though she ought to be used to their nocturnal schedule by now, she was still sleepy.

It seemed she was always tired in these badlands. The constant heat seemed to sap everything around her; it made the air harder to breathe, it weighed down her thoughts, and worst of all, it turned time into a sticky, cumbersome substance that oozed by at a maddeningly slow rate. Her sleep was never comfortable, and her dreams were not dreams at all but simply a loud buzzing ringing in her ears. She awoke feeling just as tired as before she'd slept.

She stared up above her at the moon, that seemed to grin sat her patronizingly. It annoyed her, and so she instead looked sideways at Roy. Their camels were walking unusually close together and she could have reached out and touched his arm if she'd wanted to.

"Desert nights are dark." His husky voice startled her for a moment, and she hesitated before replying. What was there to say?

"Yes. They're cold, too." She quietly agreed. They rode on in silence for a moment.

"The moon is really bright." She said eventually, at a loss for a conversation topic.

"The moon thinks it's better than everyone." He muttered, and she contemplated his words for a second. She'd thought the same thing only a few seconds ago, and yet it sounded so different coming from him.

"Maybe everyone just thinks they're worse than the moon." She mused.

"Does it make a difference?"

"No." She sighed. Him and his inferiority complex...

"I just don't like the moon. It changes, but it's endless. Its eternity is defined by its constant change. Its a paradox."

"Everything changes." She told him gently. He looked away from her.

"It shouldn't have to."

"Maybe it chooses to."

"People don't change." Roy insisted.

"People do change. You aren't the same thirteen year-old who came knocking on my father's doorstep. People just don't change voluntarily, and that's only because they don't bother try."

"That's time changing, not people."

"People change alongside time. They all go hand in hand."

He didn't say anything else, and they didn't talk any more after that.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Two days after the three week mark, Roy began to see a odd sort of brown spot in the distance. As the day wore on, the spot got larger and larger until Roy could barely make out flat roofs and what might have been a truck. His suspicions were confirmed when as the sun continued to climb overhead, they continued to ride. The isolated outpost continued to grow in size until at long last, they rode by the first shack and into town. Ran Fan pulled the camels to a halt and turned around to face the two officers.

"The Xingese are not typically trustful of outsiders. Emperor Ling's decision to marry out of the royal family, along with Mei's little 'accident'-" Here she gestured towards her stomach and rolled her eyes. "-have done nothing to increase the population's appreciation of Western influence. General Mustang and Lieutenant General Hawkeye are dead. From now on, Mustang is Ri Tsai, a half-Xingese tradesman from Drachma. Hawkeye, you are Lisa Tsai, his wife. You are not to speak unless spoke to, and you are not to to do _anything_ until you understand our class system, learn the appropriate honorifics, and hopefully learn the correct way to bow."

"Excuse me, I am Mustang's _what_?" Hawkeye's voice was icy, borderline hostile.

"We had to make your papers at such short notice..." Ran Fan sighed. "Women do not often travel alone here, and a woman traveling with a man who is not her husband is considered of the utmost low morality. The Emperor is working on trying to dispel these prejudices, but for the time being... It is far better that you are his wife rather than a white whore living alone in a strange country."

Roy felt a surge of anger at the word 'white whore', though the only indicator was his suddenly tense jaw. Hawkeye looked utterly outwardly calm, but Roy read murder in those golden eyes.

"As you wish." She spat.

"Another thing- As you and Mr. Tsai hold dual citizenship, you are officially Xingese civilians. You are to address me as Exalted Empress. The Emperor is to be treated as no less than a god, since he is supposedly a reincarnation of one. And don't complain, you have no idea how many strings we had to pull to get the both of you two Drachman birth certificates."

"As you wish, _Exalted Empress_." Hawkeye very nearly snarled. Mustang laid a soothing hand on her shoulder, but snatched it away as she whipped around to glare at him.

"Good." Ran Fan replied coolly. She nodded at the decrepit truck behind them. "Get in the back, under the canvas sheets. There's a change of clothes in there with 5,000 tzer in the pockets. One tzer is one hundred of your cenz. I'll drop you in the capital; use the money to find an apartment."

"I... uh..." Mustang took a deep breath, and gritted his teeth. "Thank you, Exalted Empress."

"Oh, and..." Ran Fan seemed to hesitate, her voice unusually warm. "Good luck, you two."

Roy had a nasty feeling that they would need it.


	3. Chapter 2

a.n.: I apologize if any content offends anyone. Bumped up in rating for language and themes.

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA.

Warning: Al/Mei, teen pregnancy, implied character death

An Odyssey of Sorts

_Chapter 2_

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me." Mustang groaned as the car stopped in front of their new apartment building. Hawkeye had to admit that it wasn't exactly the nicest of places-- several stories tall with chipped white paint and graffiti on the walls, the gutter hanging half off the roof and several windowpanes cracked. Alright, so it was a piece of crap. Still, she had to admit that nobody would be looking for Mustang in the Xingese slums.

"Don't complain." She told him curtly. "The rent's probably fantastic."

Roy frowned and continued to grumble as the driver popped the trunk and they began unloading their few belongings. Hawkeye sighed. It was slightly depressing to think that their entire Amestrian life had amounted to a small suitcase each. Sure, they'd led a rebellion that saved thousands of lives, and now they were being repaid by being forced to flee the country. She knew they hadn't done it for the glory or the fame, but a small part of her still screamed that it just wasn't fair. She grimaced a she tugged her suitcase towards the sagging double doors- to be bowled over by what she could only describe as a very small tornado.

"_Another female!_" The tornado shrieked, and Hawkeye managed to regain her footing long enough to determine that the cyclone was actually Mei. To be more precise, an extremely pregnant Mei. _Oh god..._

"You-" She started to speak, but was cut short as Alphonse hurried from the building and began to scold Mei furiously.

"Mei, you are in a very delicate condition, and the doctor said not to exert yourself, and while I'm sure that the Lieutenant General is very flattered by your enthusiasm-"

Mei released Riza in order to spin around and stick her tongue out at her boyfriend.

"Alphonse Elric, don't you dare think that you can order me around just because I happen to be the mother of your child, and I would like to remind you that I am in fact royalty-"

"Sweetheart, I'm only concerned for both of you, you're due in less than three months-"

"You think I don't know that?! I know that! And I'm perfectly capable-"

"I'm not saying you aren't capable, this has nothing to do with ability-"

"Oh, hello Alphonse!" The two lovebirds were interrupted as Mustang appeared by Hawkeye, who let out a silent breath of relief. His brows raised as he glanced at Mei's stomach, but he said nothing.

"General Mustang! It's good to see you!" Al shook his hand cheerfully, trying to ignore the fiery glare that Mei was giving him. "Darling, you remember Mr. Mustang? General Mustang, this is Mei Chang-"

"Don't call me darling!" She snapped. "And yes, it's nice to meet you again, General."

"Actually, I think it's supposed to be Ri Tsai now. And may I introduce Lisa Tsai, my lovely _wife_?" Roy stressed the word, smirking as Hawkeye glowered at him.  
"Ooh! Undercover!" Mei waggled her eyebrows dramatically.

"No, we're more refugees- Wait, you mean the Emperor didn't tell you?" Roy looked at her in confusion. Her smile faltered, and something painful flashed across Mei's face, then was gone.

"Me and the royal family don't really have much contact any more." She said cheerily. "We just saw you two arriving from our apartment window, and were we ever surprised!"

"They threw her out when they found out she was pregnant." Al told them soberly, wrapping his arm protectively around Mei. "We haven't heard from them since."

"I'm sorry." Hawkeye said quietly. The other woman gave her a false grin, looking much younger than her nineteen years. Hawkeye patted her arm clumsily, mentally screaming at Ling. She was sure he was doing the best he could for everyone in his situation, but not only did he drop her and Mustang in a foreign country without a word of advice, but he expected them to mentor a young unmarried couple expecting a child? This was insane!

"What's past is past." Mei said brightly. "Have you gone to see Havoc yet?"

"Not yet. How is the bastard?" Roy chuckled.

"He's doing great!" Al grinned. "Well, at least I think he is. His store has really taken off, so we haven't seen him in a while, but he sends us money now and again, and he pays for the doctor..."

He trailed off awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. They all stood in silence, unsure of what to say.

"Here, Lieutenant, let me take your bag." Mei suddenly insisted. Before Hawkeye could protest, she'd grabbed the suitcase and was lugging it towards the door, chased by Alphonse.

"Mei, let _me_ take the suitcases-"  
"What, you think I can't carry the suitcases? You think I'm too _small_?"

"I never said that-"

"Well, we've certainly got our hands full." Roy muttered, looking weary.

"To say the least..." Hawkeye agreed. Her head was spinning. Ran Fan had mentioned this subtly, and there had been reports a few months ago about a scandal within the Xingese royalty, but she certainly hadn't thought it was anything like this... From what she knew of this country's politics, she understood that Ling had had no choice but to cut Al and Mei off, but sending Roy and her to them as way of aid was ludicrous! Maybe they should have just stayed in Amestris and faced the damn terrorists...

"You're one floor above us!" Al called, gesturing for them to come, and Hawkeye felt guilty for even thinking of abandoning them. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the difficult months ahead.

"Come along, sir." She told him briskly. "They're waiting for us."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Roy eyed the large oak door in front of him apprehensively. It'd been almost six years since he'd last seen Havoc, and he had no idea what to expect. Mei had said his business had been successful, but he'd hardly expected a mansion! He reached out and tentatively rung the doorbell, jumping as it chimed loudly throughout the house. A brown-haired maid answered the door.

"Yes, sir?" She asked, her tone implying that it had better be important because she was very busy and they still had to arrange the seating for the dinner tonight, and the silver hadn't yet been polished and it wasn't even her _job_ to answer the door, but that stupid Mary just had to take a smoke break. "How can I help you?"

"Uh, I'm looking for Havoc?" He stammered. A maid, for god's sake! His last memory of Havoc was of a skeletal man on a hospital bed, and now there were mansions and fancy cars and maids?

"I kind of assumed that. Do you have an appointment?" She rolled her eyes.

"No, am I supposed to?"

"Well, are you a family friend?" She glared at him.

"I guess you could say that."

"And who should I tell him is calling?"

Roy hesitated. Havoc would have no idea who Ri Tsai was, and he couldn't tell the maid his real name...

"Just tell him that someone is looking for Jacqueline." He grinned to himself as the maid flounced off, making no attempt to hide her annoyance. He heard agitated voices, and then Jean Havoc rolled swiftly into the doorway.

"You son of a bitch!" He crowed, beaming as he pulled Mustang down in an awkward one-armed hug. "Get in here!"

Roy found himself ushered into the living room and his coat removed before he could so much as open his mouth.

"Sit down!" Havoc insisted, pushing Mustang backwards into a chair that was suddenly behind him. "Can I get you anything to drink? Water, whiskey..."

Roy shook his head mutely, his eyes wide as Havoc waved the maid away.

"I... uh..." He mumbled, hoping he didn't look as shocked as he felt.

"Must be a bit of a shock for you." Havoc replied, grinning.

"You could say that." Mustang muttered, trying to process everything.

"Six years! Damn..." Havoc laughed and shook his head. "The hell you doing here? Is Hawkeye with you? Where are you staying? How long you here for?"

"Yeah, we're staying in the same building as Al and Mei, Hawkeye's here. She told me to say hello from her, she wishes she could have come but she went furniture shopping today for our apartment-"

"Don't tell me you finally-"

"Don't jump to conclusions. We're here as political refugees." Mustang held up his empty ring finger and glared at Havoc.

"Six years and not even first base! It's really you alright. I thought you all died on the Promised Day, but then you and Hawkeye pop up in the middle of nowhere and suddenly it's all General Mustang and Lieutenant General Hawkeye and Fuhrer Armstrong and democracy and other crazy shit! And your life hasn't changed at all!"

"Maybe not, but yours sure has." Roy commented, gesturing around. Why the hell was there a chandelier in the living room?

"Ha ha, you've got no idea." Havoc gave a wide smile. "Luce! Hey, Lucy! C'mere!"

A small Xingese woman poked her head into the room.

"What?" She snapped crossly. "You know I'm trying to finish the last chapter of my novel! Does that mean _anything_ to you?"

"Roy Mustang, meet my wife, Lucy. Lucy, meet Roy Mustang. I've told you about the Colonel before, haven't I? Well, I guess now it's the General-"

"You called me down from writing the most important scene in the whole entire book in order to introduce me to your war buddies? _I can't believe you_!" She shrieked, and Roy heard her running back up the stairs.

"Wow." Roy managed, staring wide-eyed at Havoc.

"She's a little shy." Havoc chuckled. "But she grows on you."

"I... How long have you two been...?"

"Three years. I think. Wait, maybe four. Shit, I should know that..."

Roy grinned. Their circumstances might have been different, but Havoc was certainly still the same guy. The clock chimed five in the corner, and Mustang paled.

"Holy shit! It's five?! I was only here to pop in and tell you we were here, I should've been back by now, Hawkeye's going to kill me-" He jumped to his feet, grabbing his coat from the maid that materialized next to him.

"Sorry, Havoc, I'll come back later with Hawkeye!" He called, hurrying towards the exit.

"It'll happen some day." Havoc called after him, sounding very self-assured. Mustang paused.

"What'll happen?" He asked in confusion, the door open in his hand.

"You and Hawkeye. It'll happen." Havoc nodded his head sagely.

Roy slammed the door in his face. He was right about one thing; six years and nothing had changed.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It hadn't taken him very long to find a job working for a local delivery service, and for not speaking a word of Xingese, he thought he was doing fairly well. Hawkeye, meanwhile, had been hired as a cashier at a small bakery. She came home every evening with her mouth in a tight line, quietly grumbling about the treatment of unmarried women here. He'd learned after the first week not to ask how her day went. Despite their difficulties, their combined salaries were barely enough to pay the rent, and so Mustang tried to be thankful for what little they had.

Of course, given their luck, the apartment had to have only one bedroom. And of course Hawkeye refused to let him sleep on the couch, and of course he had refused to take the bed, and it had finally ended with them switching sleeping places every other night. It wasn't very practical or efficient, but it served to maintain a level of professional respect between them.

Every night, they ate dinner with Al and Mei, whose company he had come to enjoy.Hawkeye had, to his amazement, quickly found a friend in Mei, and he often saw her eying the younger girl with the same tenderness she'd shown to the Elrics. Mei was vivacious and loud, which was complimented by Alphonse's occasional shyness and vain attempts at peace-making. Their constant bickering was amusing, almost comforting, the type of affection that made Roy want to shake his head and sigh '_young love...'._

It was late one evening and they all sat around the bare table drinking tea. Alphonse had been quieter than usual the whole meal, several times opening his mouth to speak only to shut it. Something was obviously bothering the man, and Roy began to get annoyed as he sat there sighing into his mug.

"Alphonse, spit it out." Mei finally demanded, hitting his arm.

"What? Oh, no, it's nothing..." Al waved a hand in dismissal.

"No, it isn't nothing, you've been acting like somebody died this entire dinner." Mustang told Al, then flinched; perhaps, in retrospect, that wasn't the best choice of words.

"Well, it's just... I..." Al stalled. "I guess... What I want to know is... How is Winry doing?"

The ticking of the clock was all that was heard for a few moments. Hawkeye looked away, her eyes sad, and Roy was left to answer him.

"As best she can, I suppose." He said carefully. "I... Well, I haven't seen her since the wake, but I've heard she's training to be a doctor."

"That's good, then." Al replied quietly. "She took it even harder than I did."

"She's engaged to a surgeon." Hawkeye volunteered, her voice soft. "I've met him, he's a nice man."

"Yeah..." Al nodded, staring down at his tea. "Yeah, I'm sure he is."

Suddenly his lips twisted up into a painful smile, and his eyes flashed.

"The surgeon's probably blonde, right?" His voice cracked ever so slightly.

"Alphonse..." Mei sighed and put her arms around his waist.

"What's the guy's name, anyways? Edmund?" He gave a short, barking laugh.

"Alphonse, stop it!" Mei snapped slightly hysterically. He sat in silence for a moment, then his shoulders slumped.

"Sorry." He muttered bleakly. "It's just not fair that she got to forget."

"She hasn't forgotten your brother, Alphonse, she's never going to. She's just doing her best to move on." Hawkeye told him.

"She hasn't called, she hasn't written." He shook his head helplessly. "It's not Edward she forgot, everyone remembers the dead. It's the living that people forget."

Hawkeye didn't know how to respond to that, and she and Mustang left soon after.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

A week or so later, they were met at Al and Mei's door by a terrified Alphonse.

"She's having mood swings." He whispered, and Hawkeye noted his bloody lip. "She's napping in the bedroom right now, and-"

"Alphonse!" Someone called sleepily from within the apartment, and Al paled.

"I'm sorry, it'd probably be better if you ate on your own tonight." As he turned, Hawkeye noticed a hand-print shaped bruise on the side of his face and, acting on instinct, stuck her foot in the closing door.

"Alphonse-" She began quietly.

"Hm?" He cast a nervous glance to the side as the noise in the bedroom increased. "Look, not to be rude, but I've got to go-"

"Alphonse, listen to me." She said firmly. "I am going to go into that bedroom. I am going to sit on the bed, and Mei is going to complain to me about how much she hates the male gender. Meanwhile, you and Must- Tsai are going to go sit at a restaurant that stays open very very late, because that apartment is _no_ place for you at the moment. Do you understand me?"

"But-" He protested, weakly trying to shut the door.

"No buts." Hawkeye easily swung the door open and shoved past him into the apartment. "Don't think I don't remember Gracia's mood swings."

"Mei-"

"Will do much better with a female who can sympathize about how much her breasts hurt. Go." She shooed him out the door.

"I-"

"C'mon, Al." Roy seized the young man's arm and proceeded to drag him down the hallway. "Menfolk going this way."

Hawkeye shut the door behind them and took a breath. Alphonse meant well, but was not always the most comforting of people, and she didn't particularly want to have to wake up at three in the morning because Mei had kicked him out of the apartment.

"Mei, it's Riza." She called softly, swinging the bedroom door open to reveal Mei, looking very grumpy, sitting on the floral bedspread. Her face cleared as soon as she saw Hawkeye.

"Oh thank god." She sighed, shaking her head. "Estrogen saves the day yet again."

"Hello, Mei." Hawkeye smiled.

"Ugh!" She groaned, throwing herself back on the bed. "My ankles are swollen, I'm getting morning sickness at night, and I have to pee every two minutes. Welcome to hell."

"Is there anything I can get for you?" The lieutenant shifted awkwardly from foot to foot while Mei shook her head.

"We're out of tea. Back at home, my old nurse used to make the best herbal tea-" She broke off and turned her head away, but Hawkeye didn't miss the glint of tears in her eyes. She sat down on the lumpy bed next to the young woman.

"What was her name?" She asked gently.

"Feng Hui Guo." Mei muttered, sitting up. "On the day they threw me out, she told me she wished I'd never been born."

"Did you grow up with her?" Riza placed her hand on Mei's arm.

"Yeah, and when I was sick she used to sing to me, and-" A tear trailed down her cheek.

"Did you have any siblings?"

"So many, I could never keep them straight. I was always surrounded by people." She sniffled.

"You must have been a wonderful sister." Hawkeye said, patting her shoulder. Mei let out a strangled laugh.

"I had a favorite little brother once, five years younger than me, but he drowned when he was two years old. And I was right there when he fell in the river, and I should have jumped in after him-"

"Mei, you were seven. It wasn't your fault." The older woman soothed.

"I know, but it makes me worry, what if... What if I won't be a good mother? What if something happens to this baby, too?" Mei began to cry in earnest. "I couldn't live with myself!"

"Mei, you'll be a wonderful mother!" Riza insisted. "You're kind, and you're caring, and you're loving-"

Apparently flattery was not the way to go in this case. Mei collapsed onto Hawkeye's shoulder with a wail.

"Oh my god, it was so horrible when I told them all, you have no idea..." She sobbed into the lieutenant's collarbone. "Everyone was so angry, and my sisters started calling me all these names, and my brothers started hitting me, but then Al moved in front of me. They started hitting him instead, and they wouldn't stop, and he wouldn't make a sound, and they just kept hitting him and hitting him..."

Hawkeye began to softly stroke Mei's hair, letting the girl cry herself out. She cried for nearly half an hour, and each time Riza thought it was over, she would start again. Eventually, she ran out of tears and just sat there sobbing dryly, until she abruptly leaned over and threw up.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered, her voice hoarse. "I must be such a nuisance to you..."

"No, not at all." Riza told her, handing her the glass of water that was on the bedside table. "Occasionally one needs to comfort someone just as much as one needs to cry."

"You're too kind." Mei smiled wryly before retching again. Hawkeye stood up quickly.

"I'll get you a basin and some towels." She said hastily. It didn't take her long to clean up, and Mei fell asleep shortly after, weary from crying.

Later, Roy and Al finally returned to the apartment to face an emotionally worn-out Hawkeye.

"She's asleep." She whispered.

"What happened?" Al questioned anxiously.

"Don't ask. When she wakes up, tell her you love her." Hawkeye patted his shoulder before stumbling out into the hall, intent on reaching her own bed. She didn't notice that she was shaking until Roy grabbed her shoulder.

"Life's rough sometimes." He said gently. "It's alright to be upset about it."

She turned around to face him. He put his hand to her cheek, and she leaned slightly into his touch.

"It's just so unfair." She sighed. "Everything is always just so unfair."


End file.
